Bab 9: End of a Streak
Though Hong stood up, one of his legs was extremely unstable from a fractured and dislocated knee. Using kicks would be completely unfeasible at best and stupid at worst. He decided to stick to quick jabs to wear his opponent down.
Unfortunately for him, Vincent was reading ahead. The lightning-fast right punch flew straight at the American's nose, yet it instead hit a palm, which gave the Chinese the sensation of punching a pillow. At that very instant, it felt as though all the energy in his knuckles dispersed as Vincent twisted the palm Hong's fist fell in.
"Wha...!"
The Chinese martial artist's body was being pulled in, the dispersed force in his fist lingering enough for him to be guided toward his opponent. Vincent aimed for the exposed elbow and struck it with his other palm, breaking the arm..
Now that his body was low enough, Vincent could drop an axe kick on his clavicle connecting to his left arm. The heel dropped like a meteor on Hong's shoulder and ruined the mobility of his left arm.
The man tried to regain his footing, yet his injured legs reduced his overall stability, leaving the Chinaman open to one more free attack before he regained himself. Vincent threw a quick roundhouse straight at the open target.
"Gah!" Hong felt a rib crack. As Chinese martial artists practice partial training to strength their limbs, the rest of their bones tend to fall behind in terms of durability and strength. Internal bleeding set in relatively quickly from the strong blow.
"You! I won't lose!!" The ability to raise his left arm suffered, so he merely kept it at a low level and charged straight at Vincent with everything he had left. It was an attack with all of his spirit, the pride and stubbornness of a man who refused to lose again. The opioids in his brain were running at full force. He couldn't feel the pain of his body, yet the pain in his mind motivated him to fight even if he died.
The American's easy smile gave way to an accepting thin line. He acknowledged Hong's resolve and slid right past his attack while forcibly lifting his left arm up. It exacerbated the injury of his clavicle, yet Vincent showed no mercy and twisted the arm until it popped out of the shoulder's socket and until the elbow was dislocated.
'What I seek cannot be found in this battle.'
With that fought, the foot that positioned itself between Hong's legs kicked backwards at the damaged ankle at the same time his other hand positioned itself on his cheek, like he was going to slap Hong. The hand knocked his body down and the kick launched him upwards from below at a low angle, making Hong somersault in a dizzying fashion.
Almost like Aikido, Vincent moved both of those limbs with swiftness and sent Hong spinning in the air with broken bones worsened by the velocity of the spin.
'Vincent Style Aikido: Ferris Wheel.'
Hong dropped onto his injured rib, prompting him to spit out blood. Internal damage from the break sinking into an organ. He could continue fighting, but Vincent all but disabled his ability to fight.
"I...haven't lost yet!!" He tried to move, yet not even lacking pain could allow his body to surpass itself in this instant. The speed at which he was spun ruined his rhythm and disabled even his ability to think properly.
'Should I just knock him out?' Vincent's eyes wandered until he remembered there was a referee for the match.
"Hey ref, isn't this match done?" His opponent might not think so and killing is allowed in these types of matches as far as he knows, but it should be obvious what the outcome is.
Vincent walked toward his opponent crouched downward.
"Hong, you're strong. You're better than me." Those were words that truly came from the heart even if the result of the match seemed to prove otherwise. "Please get stronger, so we can have a better fight in the future."
"Nnnnnnnnnnnnnng...Dammit!!" Hong slammed a fist onto the ground and finally accepted his loss by staying on the ground afterward. The referee took a deep breath and announced the results of the match.
"The winner of this match is Vincent Walker!!!" And so, Hong Xiao-Hu's streak was once again ended by another man.
'I...will remember this!]
Shouts shook the gymnasium.
"Yes...!" Ohta shouted under his breath, vindicated by his fighter's victory. He took pleasure in the particularly pissed off expression on Togo's face right now. He made sure not to show too much joy at her misery, otherwise she might really do something crazy like her face suggests and take a bite out of him.
"Goddammit Hong!" She had half a mind to fire her fighter, but she knows his strength. It just means that Vincent was stronger. She looked at the man who rubbed the sweat from his forehead and noticed just how good of a state he was in. Other than the bruises on his face and arms, he didn't really receive that much damage at all.
That was something that the rest of the crowd was beginning to notice as well.
It made them wonder if they were witnessing the rise of a true powerhouse in the Kengan Matches. Messages were being sent on phones and recorded videos were being sent to other businessmen who couldn't make the match. Fighters were looking at Vincent with an appraising eye, piecing together his style of martial art.
In that last attack, some recognized softness in the throw, comparing it to aikido, yet there was a certain hint of brutality and forcefulness to it that made it seem like a revision.
"Hm." One of those fighters narrowed his eyes in thought. "I wanna fight this guy."
Vincent strolled over to his boss, hands in his pocket and a loose smile on his face. He looked like the very picture of irresponsibility, yet his next words had a sense of duty and pride mixed in. "The job's done. Let's go out for some drinks now."
"Ah, go easy on my wallet please?" The first time he regrettably allowed Vincent to crash at his mansion was when Ohta discovered that his fighter could hold a lot of food and drinks in his stomach. Half of his refrigerator vanished in three days, which is a notion that becomes absurd once one looks at the sheer size of his refrigerator.
"You got nothing to worry about." Sure, he may have been hungry last time, but this time Vincent will just be doing nothing but drinking.
Ohta was still slightly worried that Vincent would dip into his personal spending money, so nervous laughter escaped him.
"Hah. Don't worry, I'll be going easy. Two drinks maximum."
"That's a relief!"
Togo looked on at their carefree conversation, a seething aura akin to flames roiling off of her in waves. It scared the people around her stiff and they nearly fell over like wooden boards before they remembered they could use their legs to scurry away. The shark CEO stomped closer to the victors, her searing stare burning a hole into Ohta, prompting him to turn around.
His countenance shifted instantaneously once he saw that look. "Eek!"
He yelped and quickly hid behind his fighter's well-built body concealed in his baggy clothes. The man then remembered he was a CEO as well and exited from behind his shield while coughing in his fist.
"Miss Togo," he noted. "Can I help you?"
"Bah! Cut the bullshit small talk. You won and set my potential projects back a few months at the bare minimum while snatching a good chunk of money from me." A savage smirk split her face. "So, how does it feel fucker?"
"Um, thank you for your help?" Those words would piss any normal person off because they would perceive it as mocking. Togo is not a normal person, however.
Unfortunately, she still got pissed off anyways. "I'll make sure to come back for vengeance! Make sure you wash those necks of yours." Her eyes bore holes not only into Ohta, but into Vincent as well before she spun around and stomped off. The American looked at Hong getting carried off into a stretcher with a slight smile on his face.
He remarked on Togo's behavior though. "What an intense lady. She sounds like she needs to get laid and relax."
Ohta nearly turned into a spirit on the spot. "D-d-d-d-don't say that...! She's intense and crazy, so you don't know what she can pull. You can't be rude!"
"Aren't you being more rude by calling her crazy?" His honest question made Ohta realize that his words were rash.
"Dammit, you're influencing me too much. Let's go and get drinks already." He smacked his fighter on the shoulder and hurried him along before he said something else that was annoying.
"Oh yeah, you got any fighters in mind for the next week?"
"Of course not! We're all set for now, so you can wait at least a month."
Those words were nothing short of horrifying to Vincent. His body was frozen like he was victim of a cold snap. His lips turned purple from the frostbite. His eyes shrunk into pinpricks from an unholy amount of pain. He had a mouth, yet he couldn't scream.
He already promised that he wouldn't leave...
What is he going to do for a whole month?
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone